Snap Out of It
by Verdot
Summary: Vita non est vivere sed valere vita est. A Turk, an assistant, and the Project that changed the world. Just not the typical Turk and assistant you're used to reading about. VeldxIfalna Blatant disregard for Dirge.


Title is from a Frou Frou song, "Psychobabble" which sort of sets the tone for this story and another one. Part of several stories along this line. The idea of Veld and Ifalna creating their own complication was originally thought up by my friend Avalon-chan and as part of my Christmas gift to her, I'm putting this up here for her. I've obviously taken liberties with the Jenova Project staff, but considering that Square-Enix does feel like adding _canon characters_ like Gast and Ifalna anywhere in the Dirge flashbacks, I don't feel too bad. Original game canon.

---

He was only visiting, checking in on how one of his kids was doing. Granted, this kid was something of a favorite, but he'd never tell him that. Veld wasn't supposed to pick favorites, Turks in high ranking positions never picked favorites if they wanted to be promoted. But Valentine was a good kid under all that, so he really didn't mind leaving all his paperwork for a weekend to make sure he hadn't blown anything up.

He was a good kid, but not _that_ good of a kid.

He'd been greeted by a rather distracted Gast, and left to his own devices in the large and drafty house that served as their lab. A person could easily get lost in a place like this, and almost as if to spite his sense of direction, that's precisely what he did.

"Damned old houses, just where is everyone hiding?" He wasn't particularly close to the Science Department, being a Turk and all, but he'd had his share of run ins with the lot of them. Hojo in particular had been someone he'd talked to; considering the rest of the Turks in his generation were a fair bit frightened of the man, he got sent to talk with him a lot. Sometimes it was almost pleasant. Almost.

Lost in thought, he didn't notice her until he'd already bumped into her. He had a particular dislike for human contact, so he was less than gracious about it.

"WATCH where you're going!" he barked out grouchily not really looking at who or what he'd crashed into.

"You have really messy hair, would you like to borrow a brush?" she asked, blinking large green eyes up at him. He narrowed his eyes and focused. A woman. That just figured. She must have been one of the techs or something, considering he'd never seen her before.

"Do you say that to everyone you crash into?"

"Only the ones that need to brush their hair."

He was a fair bit perplexed. Was she just completely ignorant of the world around her, or was she mocking him? If it was the latter, he would just have to assert his Turk authority and teach this little tech a lesson.

He leaned down, as she was a bit short, so that he could level her with the best Dragoon Glare. He had more authority than even some of his superiors when he used the glare. She seemed to ignore it, though, and smiled.

"See, I knew you had lovely eyes hiding under that mess. Even Vincent and Toshiro probably brush their hair more than you do."

Now he was thoroughly baffled. She was one a first name basis with both Valentine and Hojo? And did she just... did she just compliment him? Women never complimented him. Not even Valentine did, without an insult first, but things were very strange with them.

"Who _are_ you?" He finally managed to get out when he recovered. She held out her hand.

"Ifalna. And you must be Veld, Vincent's told us all about you." So she wasn't oblivious. And he was a fair bit embarrassed to hear that his prodigy was chattering on about him to scientists of all people.

He looked at her hand like it would bite him. And he couldn't summon up anything to say either.

"I don't bite; I promise."

"I just prefer... not to..."

"Oh, you're one of those. Well, I suppose that will have to be worked on later." She backed up a little and bowed in a decently accurate Wutain fashion. He returned it and wondered if she'd spent time there... It was a culture that he was secretly fascinated with.

"You wouldn't happen to know where Valentine is, would you?" She laughed.

"Oh, he's probably hanging around with Lu, thinking up some devious plot for poor Brennen. He'd never leave the lab, otherwise." First name basis with Gast and Mrs. Hojo too. Clearly, there was something he was missing, as her name was still not familiar to him. He felt out of place then, like he'd stepped into someone's home like a burglar.

"Thank you." He turned around promptly, though he had no idea where Lucrecia or Valentine would be then.

"I could show you where they are, you know. You're not accustomed to asking for help, are you?" Just what exactly _was_ this woman? This Ifalna... what an odd name she had. No better than his, he supposed, but then again, he'd taken it from a dictionary.

He wondered if she had secrets like that too.

Silently, he followed her, and she chattered on merrily about flowers and Erlenmeyer flasks and how she'd loved doing up Lucrecia's hair that one time her and Toshiro and Bren had gone out for dinner as a break...

"Oh, here's a brush, by the way. Wouldn't want Vincent to see you all a mess, would you?" She winked then, and he didn't like the implication. This woman was insufferable. Almost worse than Valentine, as she was rather personable.

He was actually starting to like her.

"Are you always like this?" he asked with an exasperated tone. She nodded solemnly, stopping to point at a mirror in a hallway.

"Though, it's not often we get handsome young men traipsing in here, well, at least polite ones. I'm a little out of practice dealing with them, forgive me." He'd actually started to pull the brush through his tangled hair before he stopped and stared at her with his mouth partially agape.

She laughed. "That's a silly face."

He muttered something under his breath and finished a quick and sloppy brushing. She shook her head, and grabbed the brush from his hand. Standing on her tip toes, she finished the job.

"There. Now you are presentable." She cocked her head to the side and examined him. He felt even more embarrassed than usual. Especially considering he was almost flattered.

---

"And THAT is why Lucrecia shouldn't have married Hojo."

"You're terrible with women, you know that?"

"Hey you drunk enough yet? I missed ya."

"No, not yet. And what makes you think that you're getting any? You just spent the last half hour talking about the married woman you're stalking."

"I only stalk because I care."

"You always think with your dick, don't you?"

It had been months since Veld's last visit, so he and Valentine were sitting in Nibelheim's only bar, most likely about to launch into one of their legendary arguments. They'd made an agreement long ago just after the tension between them had become unbearable and they'd ruined a couple of good suits that they would keep it from getting serious. Friends with benefits, no matter how good the benefits, were still just friends.

That didn't mean there was never jealousy of one kind or another. It just meant that they would wait to explain before shooting each other. It was common decency.

"Fuck, man, I'm wasted. Because you're making sense. Would you smack me over the head if I told you I think I might be in love with her?"

"I'd smack you over the head anyway. But for now I'm just going to tell you that you're foolish." He'd figured it would come to this eventually, he'd heard rumors and had one particularly strange metaphor laden conversation with Hojo.

"Ya, you're right. Shit, I should have just stayed in Midgar with you."

Veld stood up easily. He'd only been holding the drink in his hand as Valentine had gone through a couple of rows of shots or something like it. The kid drank like a fish if he let him. He needed to clear his head, and hopefully come back with some good advice for him.

There was that understanding, after all.

"I'm going outside, don't burn down anything." 

It was a cool night, cooler than Midgar would be this time of year. He'd gotten a fair bit of a ways away from the bar before someone bumped into him. It just figured, he was already in a bad enough mood...

"Hey! It's YOU!" A familiar woman's voice slurred. He looked down, and sure enough, Ifalna was smiling up at him.

"Hello, Ifalna." He couldn't be grouchy with her, it just felt... wrong. She'd even been kind enough to call him a few times since his last visit, telling him that Valentine was being good and that in later stages of the project they might need another bodyguard and maybe, just maybe, he might want to take the job.

She wobbled.

"Are you alright?" he asked, and she hiccuped.

"Drrrinkin. Do I sound fuuuunny?" He laughed. She was absolutely ridiculous in this state. Of course, he had to wonder where the others were, considering she was inebriated and walking out on her own. He would have to give a stern lecture to Gast or Hojo next time he saw them.

"Here, let me get you home, what are you doing out on your own?" A very stern lecture.

"Eh? Why you act so old? You're Vinnie's age ain't you?"

"No, a few years older."

"Pffffffft. You're younger than me, that's for sure."

She was very very drunk, and each step was leading her closer to a tumble on the ground. As much as he hated contact, he hated being a complete jerk even more. He grabbed her elbow lightly and guided her along. She kept on chattering, he only half listened, as he was still processing his current situation.

"...and I think Bren likes me. But I don't know, I don't like him like that, you know? Maybe in a few YEARS but I'm not ready for that sort of thing."

"Mm hmm."

"You're easy to talk to, you know that? I can see why he likes ya."

"Mmm."

"Hello? Veld?"

"Oh, sorry, just thinking."

They were right at the front steps now, and she was clinging to his arm. He hadn't noticed that she had gripped back and was a little surprised that he wasn't immediately... twitchy. And in the half light produced by the singular mako lamp her eyes looked so vivaciously green... she was so small and pale and lovely actually.

Yes, Ifalna was really lovely if he paid attention.

"Well, this is the part where you're supposed to kiss me, but since I paid, you'll get away with this." She laughed and enveloped him in as big a hug as her little arms could reach. He stood there helplessly as the door opened, revealing Lucrecia's slender form.

"Oh there you are Iffy! Brennon's been worried sick about you and Toshiro... well he'd be worried if he wasn't in the lab." Veld could almost swear the woman smirked at him in the manner a cat would to a mouse. He knew that women were dangerous.

Ifalna finally let go of him, and Lucrecia took over helping her walk. She gave him a drunken wave before being dragged inside. He lingered for a bit after the door closed, opting not to go back to the bar that night and to just go back to his room in the Inn.

He felt warm.

---

"No, you hit the pile now."

"Why? This game is silly."

"Hit the pile! Don't ask!"

"What if I smash your hand instead?"

"Then I'll kick you. Now these are the rules for the game. Follow them."

Midgar had been unusually quiet the past week, and he'd decided to take a couple of his personal days off and take a break. Not that he really needed one, but it was springtime, and the air was fresh and a trip to the mountains sounded like a good idea. Valentine had only momentarily seemed surprised to see him walk in, but then again Lucrecia had pulled him out to go for a walk. Gast and Hojo were working obsessively, as usual, completely unaware what their assistants were up to.

Like Ifalna was teaching him a card game instead of washing test tubes. He didn't want to think of what Valentine and Lucrecia were up to. Besides, Ifalna scolding him was far more pleasant at the moment.

"You really suck at cards." He'd been letting her win; he wasn't too competitive, odd for a Turk. It must have been pure luck that he got promoted to team leader.

"Well, maybe you're just that good at cards. Or distracting or something." He liked that she wore her long hair loose, naturally. The type of woman that spent too much time on her appearance always looked used to him, but Ifalna possessed just the right amount of untouchableness to ward off being used.

Though, he knew that men were evil things indeed, and would most likely shoot any would be suitors of hers. He did have a tendency to be protective and all.

She placed her elbows on the table and her chin on her hands. "Distracting? So you'll help me get some things out of the top cupboard? The tall one ran off with Lu."

She pointed and he fetched a basket for her. She then grabbed his wrist and proceeded to drag him outside.

"You're going to help me on a very girly quest now. Don't worry, I won't tell the other assassins."

He stared.

"Come on." It was very sunny outside, it had been overcast when he'd arrived so it was a nice change. Ifalna's manner of dress and loose hair made her look like a woodland nymph of some kind, and he almost felt bad that she had to spend most of her time in a lab. She swung the basket on her arm as they walked farther from civilization, and he found himself relaxing.

She stopped at a patch of flowers, and he suddenly knew what she had meant about a "girly quest." He'd never held any particular fondness for flowers, as they were all show and no substance. But this wasn't about him at all, so he would stand off to the side and make sure nothing ate, kidnapped, or whatever thing monsters and thieves would do to a woman like her.

"What kinds of things do you do when you're not working, Veld? You obviously don't play cards..." Her smirk was two parts mirth and one part coy. He wondered if such an expression took years of practice.

"I read. Sometimes play." Ifalna was a harmless woman, but he was still guarded. He wouldn't live to be thirty if he wasn't guarded.

"Play what?" She'd already filled her basket and was staring again. He felt mildly uncomfortable under such unveiled scrutiny. She was inhuman like that, able to stare right at a person and see them for who they were. There was no reason to keep anything from her that she wished to know.

"...Cello. They used to use music as a training technique; they have since discontinued it." He didn't need to define 'they.' Even out here, far from Midgar, its presence lingered. He was only a few years older than most of the Turks, but he'd been a part of the oppressive force that was slowly seeping its way into the world since he was quite young.

But something beyond his own tainted memory assured him that standing out in the sun was a very good way to spend his time.

"You play cello?! I play flute, myself. Lu's a piano player, Toshiro's violin... you and Toshiro should play sometime! Not sure if Bren plays anything, he can't seem to remember at any rate..." He didn't often run into other musicians, as those that underwent that program had long since passed on. Nearly a decade had passed since he'd first started; he had reason to feel old.

It almost made sense that the intelligent people of the Science Department were skilled with music. It took a certain type of mind to master it. He was a little out of place like that. Valentine was tone deaf, a fact that he'd laughed at on more than one occasion.

"...Veld? VELD." He'd gone into his own thoughts again, and she was standing directly in front of him, with her tiny hands on her tiny hips.

"What is it Ifalna?"

"I asked if you were going to visit again soon, or maybe transfer here." He blinked.

"You do realize that I might have a shot for promotion if I stay in Midgar, correct?" As if that explained everything.

"You're not competitive. Are you one of those people that's afraid to be happy or something? You have friends here, if you paid attention. You belong with us." He frowned.

"Ifalna..."

"I fear for them. They're going to do something foolish, and they'd listen to you. Natural leaders don't come around often, you know." It was the first time he'd noticed that she didn't sound like a scientist at all, that she didn't belong to science at all. She belonged right outside here, the sunlight catching her hair to reveal the almost red highlights to it. And here he was, standing around in his suit, even though he was off duty, unable to lose even part of what he'd become.

"Please, Veld. At least come and visit again. Or I'll follow you to Midgar and drag you back here." She smiled teasingly and he couldn't help a small grin in return. Using his tie, she pulled him to her eye level.

"I promise to come and visit again. I can't promise anything else." He finally said, and he realized it was terribly unfair of her to use those hauntingly inhuman eyes against him like that.

"You brushed your hair."

"I didn't want you yelling at me again."

He broke off the eye contact when he heard a rustling coming from down the path they'd taken. A tall, thin, and drunkenly wobbling, figure came into view, and Veld didn't need a second glance to determine who it was. And sure enough a stunning female figure came into view beside him, giggling like crazy.

Ifalna rolled her eyes, and something about that was completely silly. This whole situation was completely silly. He should have been saving his personal days for when he really needed them.

"I must be going," he muttered. Ifalna, though, latched onto his arm and dug her heels into the ground.

"You're not done helping me." She said with finality. So stubborn when it came to his actions. And he'd had it on good authority that she was usually nice and mothery with the others. Almost quiet. Though, it had to say something about his state of being to find all that out.

He wanted to know her favorite color, and several things like that. Odd.

"Hey Veld... what's this?" He'd forgotten about the other man's presence for the moment, and affixed him with a glare.

"I do go outside once in a while. Little early to be drinking?" To be honest, he was a little concerned about the kid's recent behavior. Lucrecia was proving to be a bad influence on him. And almost as if she could hear him thinking about her, she smirked at him.

"Little early to be—"

"He's just helping me out, Vincent. We'll be out of your hair in a minute." She tugged on his arm then, and he was aware of at least one thing; Valentine scared her. Her concern was for Lucrecia, he could see it as she worriedly chewed on her lip. A funny pair of worriers they made.

"You and Iffy have fun, Veld." Lucrecia said pleasantly as they moved out of sight. He could feel the slightest of tremors coming from Ifalna's hand, but he didn't know what to do other than to walk with her.

---

"Something is not right." She whispered into the phone receiver. It was summer now. He'd waited a good couple of months before returning, because he really couldn't stay away. It was two am, and he'd just settled into his bed in the Inn, preparing to check on the Project's members the next day. He'd had to take a late train, but Ifalna had made it sound imperative that he visit this particular weekend.

"What is it?" His voice was thick with an hour's sleep. She couldn't even wait until he'd dropped by himself… he'd signed on to be corporate watchdog, not a psychologist or crisis management agent. And somehow he always ended up having to be those things.

"Can I… can I come stay with you for a short while?" When talking on the phone he could never tell exactly what she was thinking or doing. But the slightest quivers in her voice… had she been crying?

"…You mean in Midgar?"

"Please, I just need to get away for a while; Bren knows, he said it was fine."

"Then why are you sneaking off in the middle of the night."

"He's not part of the problem; do you always question people so much?" Her usual tone of voice, that stubborn and obstinate tone, it was seeping back into her words. He was relieved by that; nothing had hurt her enough to change her completely.

"Alright then. Let me get dressed. Have you told your boss who you'll be staying with?"

"No, it doesn't matter, just hurry up, and I wouldn't worry about your hair." He smirked despite her not being able to see.

"It's a lost cause anyway."

He put the receiver down gently and dressed quickly, always in the suit, though he didn't bother with the tie. It was a quick jaunt to get to the building, and when he arrived, Ifalna was sitting on the front step with a flowered bag on her lap.

"Took you long enough."

"I come to rescue you from the clutches of… well whatever is bothering you, and you complain about my promptness?"

"You're not wearing a tie. So I won't complain too much. And you should wear grays and browns more, they'd suit you better than your uniform."

"We can catch the 5:30 train; why don't you tell me what it is that prompted this while I check out of the Inn?" He could see her bite her lip out of the corner of his eye; they hadn't walked more than five steps and she'd already latched onto his arm…

"They're ruining their lives. It's _her_ fault, but Toshiro's too driven, Bren's too passive, Lu's too fanatical… oh and Vincent… I don't know what he is. He's so terribly…"

"…Cold and inhuman?" That wasn't a matter of knowing Valentine, that issue. That was a matter they both shared, it was the matter that kept them checking in on each other over the years. They were… monsters, in a way.

"Something terrible is going to happen. Lu won't stop… and I think Toshiro is starting to notice. He's a good man, he is, I just don't… I don't know what he'd do, you know?" He sighed. This was his fault, how things had gotten. He should have pulled Valentine from the Project months ago. He should have put someone impartial in. Even his visits, he felt a little guilty about.

"I'll transfer him, as soon as I get back into the office where I can fill out the appropriate form."

"I'm sorry, I should have said something sooner. I just thought Lu would listen to me, that's all." He looked over and noticed she'd moved her hand from his arm until it nestled comfortably within his own hand. Her fingers where unusually long, befitting a musician or an artist.

And while waiting for the train, he realized that he might not want to bring her back to the Project at all.

---

Ifalna proved to be a very good roommate. She was tidy, and a fantastic cook. She understood living things, and would sit and babble on about how food was just borrowing the essence of the tomato so that they could have the sauce. A person had to respect vegetables.

He'd sent Vincent to Kalm for a while, not quite ready to deal with the anger that the kid most likely held towards him. Though, he supposed that Lucrecia was occupying his thoughts lately. Ifalna had called her once, from a pay phone, and found out that she was pregnant, and that she and Hojo had patched things up for the time being. Veld couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy about that, knowing full well that the Hojos were as foolish as they were intelligent. But Ifalna had never said that anything else was going on.

And she could distract him ever so easily with her cooking. He was going to be a rather pudgy Turk at this rate. Half the board members were fat old men, though, so maybe it was just preparation for something greater. At least that's the excuse he used.

Things were going too well, in fact. That's what made him uneasy. Nothing ever went very well or smoothly in his life, it was a fact of nature.

"You're making that thinking face again," she said, as he'd spaced off when he should have been helping her dice peppers.

"It happens." Green peppers had the same consistency as something else easily sliceable, but far less pleasant. His uneasiness was making it harder to turn off that instinct he'd always possessed. He blinked it away.

A cool hand gently stopped his dicing. "It's alright to ask for help once in a while, Veld." There was just a hint of evening sunlight, one of the benefits of living above the Plate and the main reason he had this apartment in the first place. It filtered in through the one large window; making the red in her hair almost glow. And there was something both divine and profane about the way she was standing in his kitchen, hand lightly over his and staring up at him with an expression that betrayed her age.

"_Vita non est vivere sed valere vita est,_+" she said barely above a whisper, and he almost missed it. He appreciated languages like music and this was very old, far older than anything he'd ever heard. He took his hand away from the knife then, and hesitantly, like every guarded thing he'd ever done in his life, attempted to drink up the words from her mouth. Her long artist's fingers tangled in his hair and maybe the mushrooms would burn and he just _didn't care_ about any of that.

And dammit, he _didn't care_ about that knocking on his door. 

She was always surprising him, like she did now, being the one to pull away and answer the door. Her feet barely made any noise on the floor, and he leaned against the counter. He had a bad feeling from this, and focused on the cutting board half full of peppers.

"Ifalna? What are you doing in Veld's apartment?" He didn't need to look up; he didn't even need to have heard that to know who it was. He knew things were too good. He should have expected him to visit without warning. His precious Lucrecia was off being the happy wife she should have been from the start and he was actually starting to enjoy his daily life.

Ifalna wasn't like them, though, and they would always be drawn back to each other. Maybe not even as friends, but it would always be Dragoon and Valentine.

He should have been angry. "Vincent? Are you alright?" Ifalna's voice had gone soft, into that tone that wasn't like her. Ifalna was just a little pushy and coy and didn't use that tone unless something frightened her.

He looked up.

"She needed a place to stay. I see you're still alive."

"Yes, I bet that disappoints you." There had been a few instances, back when they were both much younger, that he'd learned the full extend of Valentine's temper. But this was much more beyond that, and it irritated Veld. He wasn't the one that was romping around with a married woman. Valentine was in the wrong.

"Oh stop with the self-pity, it doesn't do well for you. Don't blame me for the trollop running back to her _husband_. I know that's what you're truly angry about." But was he angry? No, they didn't get angry at each other's misdeeds. Clearly he had come here for something and was taken aback by Ifalna's presence.

"And what would you know!" Valentine was only 27 years old and it showed. He'd already made it past thirty alive and well; what did it matter what he thought? There was nothing, even that little moment in the kitchen, nothing that would ever compare to what Valentine had put himself and everyone around him through.

Veld just _didn't care_.

"If you wish to speak with me, I suggest you do it at my place of business." His tone was calm, that horribly calm tone that Valentine would recognize by now. Even Ifalna had attuned herself to it, when he'd come back one night after a nasty raid.

Valentine glared. "…Do you love her?" he said lowly, avoiding eye contact.

Veld swallowed. "I think I might."

She hadn't heard. It was their dialogue; he and Vincent's. They'd keep asking the same questions, again and again, until the end of time at this rate.

As soon as Vincent was out of sight, he let himself breathe. He wasn't sure if his own feet or the gentle guiding of Ifalna had led him to sit on the couch, but he was there for quite some time. He felt numb. But it was a cool hand that reminded him that yes, he was still alive, and yes, he had probably done something foolish.

"He's going to do something stupid," he finally said, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"It's hard to protect them sometimes; especially from themselves." He let the anger, that irrational thing that made him so fearsome, subside.

"I've kept you for too long, you know. It's time for me to give you back to them." She let out a breath slowly.

"I know."

---

"Sir? Sir are you listening?" He still had that bad habit of drifting off into his own thoughts once in a while. Only now there were only rookies and people that hadn't been there, never would have been there. Never would have even heard of the project except in rumor. Never would have sat in a gutter waiting for the vice-president of a rival company. Never would have met Lucrecia, or Vincent. Or Ifalna. He was pushing fifty and nearest to his age were board members, catty, ambitious people. The next highest ranking Turk wasn't even thirty yet.

They'd suffered some losses, these past years.

"Yes, sorry Tseng, could you repeat that? I just want to make sure I heard it right." He listened intently, dismissing the young man with a wave. This was the time he sat alone and evaluated things.

Hojo was still around, but one could hardly call him that. When Lucrecia died, it changed a lot of things in him. And Valentine disappeared not shortly after, most likely dead also. He tried to see the poetry in that, and failed, even though he played the scenario in his head year after year. No, he didn't hate him. He wished he could; it would make it all a lot more bearable.

And Ifalna... she was gone too. Though he'd orchestrated that himself. Her secrets had caught up with her and he'd sent her with Gast, knowing full well what might happen there. At least the man was more stable than he was. At least he'd protected somebody.

Yes, he'd done all he could. The Jenova project was out of his hands, dead as Lucrecia. Maybe as dead as Valentine. And himself? Oh, there was something left. There had to be, or else people would keep on making the same old mistakes.

His phone rang, he almost didn't hear it.

"Hello, Dragoon's office."

"I hear that you've started to comb your hair once in a while." The minx knew this was a secure line, didn't she?

"How are you?"

"I'm fine. I just... I just wanted to tell you something. I can't talk long, Bren'll get paranoid; he seems to think Hojo's going to come after him or something." No, not Hojo. Hojo had done enough already; no man could have soured that much. At least, he hoped not.

"Go ahead then."

"I'm pregnant... and I know... I know it's going to be a girl. I want you to promise me something. I know you're a man of honor."

"Anything, Ifalna. Except some things you know I can't do."

"Find some way to watch her should something happen to me. I know there are a lot of things..."

"It's done. If she'll be anything like you, I'm sure she'll be easy to pick out." He already had the Turk in mind for just that type of mission. He himself could not watch a girl, but someone... younger?

"Thank you. And... I'm sorry." He didn't need to reply to that.

"Well, it was nice talking to you, Veld. And stop guilting, you did the best you could." Stubborn and pushy Ifalna. It was a good choice sending her with Gast. He needed a wife like her.

"Take care. And... Ifalna?"

"Yes?" He hesitated.

"Nevermind. Just take care."

---

+translation: Life is more than merely staying alive.


End file.
